


Just the Tip

by LibrarySocks



Series: Bratva-verse [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Dancer Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, No Beta, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot, Russian Mafia, Too Drunk to Consent, Top Victor Nikiforov, not edited, porn no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21548839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibrarySocks/pseuds/LibrarySocks
Summary: Yuuri tells Victor he can't come over because he has a performance tomorrow. So Victor gets him drunk to have his way with him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Bratva-verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538998
Comments: 3
Kudos: 157





	Just the Tip

**Author's Note:**

> This is **not** a fluffy fic!! This fic is set in the Bratva-verse in which Victor is the boss of the Russian Mafia and Yuuri is a dancer and his lover. There are currently three other fics in this series, starting with Bratva. You don't really need to read them to enjoy this one.  
> While the characters involved are in an established relationship, I must warn you that Yuuri says no several times, and our irredeemable Victor doesn't listen. **If that is triggering for you, please do not read on!**

Yuuri shoves Victor’s hand away as he tries to hand him another flute of champagne, but Victor is persistent. 

“Viiiiictor, I told you, I can’t tonight, I have a performance tomorrow,” he whines, his accent particularly thick from the drink. 

“I know, but it’s not until tomorrow _evening_ , you can have one more for me, can’t you Yuuri?” 

Yuuri blinks up at him, his cheeks beautifully flushed, his eyes already slightly glassy. Victor holds the flute up to his mouth, tipping the liquid down his throat. Yuuri sighs, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek, slumping in his chair. 

Victor leans over, wrapping his fingers in his hair as he licks into his mouth. Yuuri moans against his mouth before pushing pitifully against his shoulders. 

“I told you, I can’t, not before a performance,” he slurs, not opening his eyes, trying but failing to insert authority into his voice. 

“Of course solnyshko, I remember,” he says reassuringly, as he begins unbuttoning Yuuri’s shirt. 

He nips and licks down the column of his throat, and Yuuri squirms beneath him, whimpering. He pushes him away again, when his tongue finds his nipple. 

“Victor, no!” 

Victor rubs Yuuri through his pants, causing the young dancer to buck his hips, before he kicks out, drink making his movements uncoordinated. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Victor assures him, scooping him up into his arms and carrying him to the bed. “This won’t hurt your performance, will it, Yuuuuri?” 

He mouths at Yuuri through his pants, before sliding back up to kiss him filthily, using his hands to find all of the spots he knows Yuuri loves him to touch. Soon enough he’s panting and writhing beneath him, kissing and touching back, his protests forgotten. 

Victor slowly unbuttons Yuuri’s pants, sliding them off while capturing a nipple between his teeth. Yuuri hisses, pulling lightly at Victor’s hair, properly distracted. Victor nibbles down his torso, pulling Yuuri’s underwear down with his teeth. 

“Victor, noooo,” but he’s still hitching his hips, seeking friction, so Victor continues until Yuuri’s erection pops free. 

“Just a taste, milyi, don’t worry,” Victor sucks the head into his mouth, catching Yuuri’s gaze. 

Yuuri nods, biting his lip, before throwing his head back. Victor sets to work with teasing licks and pulls, until Yuuri is almost in tears. Victor licks his finger and presses at his entrance, and Yuuri cries out, grinding down on it. 

“So good for me,” Victor murmurs, before pulling out to grab the lube from his drawer. 

Yuuri keens as he presses back in and takes him back into his mouth. 

“Vitya,” he breathes, “no, we can’t.” 

“Can’t what, Yuuri,” he asks sweetly, popping off, “surely just a finger won’t hurt,” he crooks it and Yuuri whimpers, but doesn’t protest further. 

Victor smirks before swallowing him back down, working in a second finger. He takes a moment to quickly take off his own clothes, so fast Yuuri barely has time to complain, before he’s back, taking Yuuri to the precipice before pulling back. 

“Please,” Yuuri sobs, trying to push up into Victor’s mouth. 

Victor pops off and flips Yuuri onto his knees in a flash, before reaching around and pumping Yuuri hard and fast. He feels Yuuri tensing beneath him, and slows his pace, smiling smugly when the boy whines, trying to fuck into his hand. 

He slicks himself up with lube, before pressing slowly into Yuuri. 

“Victor, no, my performance.”

“Shh, just the tip, doesn’t that feel good, just the tip,” he murmurs, stopping just inside him, twisting his wrist so Yuuri cries out. 

“Just… just the tip?” 

“Yes, look at you Yuuri, you’re so beautiful, I wish you could see me inside of you, see where we meet.”

Yuuri whines, pushing back slightly, easing Victor in just a bit more. Victor holds very still, letting the dancer work him inside slowly. 

“So perfect, Yuuri,” he says when Yuuri moves to pull off, “I could cum just like this, paint you inside and out.”

Yuuri gasps, then pushes back again, until Victor is almost completely seated inside him. He rewards him with a few more twists and tugs until he’s rocking Victor inside him steadily. 

“Just like that, so good for me,” he lets Yuuri set the pace for a few moments longer before grasping his hips in his hands and then slamming into him as the dancer screams out. 

Victor loses himself in the warmth that is Yuuri, relishing the sounds their bodies make as they come together, slapping Yuuri’s hand away when he tries to touch himself. 

“Not yet,” Victor commands, driving relentlessly against Yuuri’s prostate, making the boy let out a stream of words in Japanese. 

Victor chuckles darkly, refusing to let his lover find his release before he finds his own. When Yuuri had told him he couldn’t come over tonight because he had a performance tomorrow Victor had seen red. Yuuri is _his_ , and only Victor gets to decide when he will or won’t see him. 

So he’d wheedled until Yuuri had agreed to come over for dinner, and then he’d plied him with liquor until he wasn’t seeing straight and now he’s getting exactly what he wanted, because he always does. He plans to break Yuuri, if not tonight, then soon. So that he’ll know exactly who’s in charge in this relationship. 

Maybe tomorrow, as he tries to move across the stage with that prenatural grace of his, he will feel the twinges of tonight and feel remorse for having tried to deny Victor. Either way, it will be a reminder of just who has command of him. 

“Vitya,” Yuuri sobs, falling onto his face with his ass still in the air, making such a pretty picture. 

Victor grabs his arms, pulling them backwards and holding him as he thrusts upward into him. He’s so close, but he’s not sure if Yuuri has been punished enough just yet. 

“Yuuri,” he whispers, wrenching Yuuri further up, so his back is to his chest, his mouth against his ear, “will you remember me this tomorrow, on stage, Yuuri. Will you remember who you belong to? Do you feel me inside you, making you mine?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Yuuri cries out, desperately, trying to pull his arms away, to get his hands on himself. 

Victor finds he likes it when he struggles, so he tugs harder, making him gasp. 

“I can’t let you go unless you promise not to touch yourself, Yuuri. Only I can touch you tonight.” 

Yuuri’s cries and whines are driving Victor wild. He lets go of his arms for a moment, and swiftly Yuuri has them up, pulling at Victor’s hair behind him, trying to bounce faster on Victor. 

Victor uses his now free hands to grasp Yuuri’s hips, stilling him for just a moment, before finding his own rhythm again. Yuuri must know that he’s in command, he sets the pace. He bites Yuuri’s shoulder, hard, leaving marks behind. Yuuri just gasps and moans, what a picture he must make from the front. All splayed out on Victor, arms in the air, cock slapping against his stomach, Victor has half a mind to call someone in to photograph him like this. But Yuuri is his, and tonight he doesn’t want to share him with anyone, not even for a moment. 

Feeling his climax coming, he finally wraps his fist around Yuuri’s dick, and Yuuri comes undone on top of him only moments after Victor cums inside of him. The noise he makes is high and loud, and he’s still panting as Victor meanly thrusts into him a few extra times with his softening dick, intent on marking his territory.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I'm trash. This is part of an effort to write every day for the month of November and publish. Sorry for any typos, etc.


End file.
